


Loving Someone

by sherlck (scienceofdeducjohn)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Coming Out, First Kiss, M/M, Paul is an insecure idiot, because i could, minor original non binary character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scienceofdeducjohn/pseuds/sherlck
Summary: Thanks to Straal, Paul gets matched with Hugh on a dating app. In a panic, he deletes his profile. But when he finds out that Hugh attends the Academy too, he discovers that maybe he wouldn't mind dating him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this weird little story came from, but it happened. The title is from the song by The 1975, because I thought it fit nicely :)
> 
> And just a disclaimer: I didn't research Starfleet Academy so I probably didn't completely comply with the canon Star Trek universe on that part, sorry!

“You did _what_?” Paul hissed incredulously, snatching his PADD out of Straal’s still typing fingers. He threw it in his bag, quickly, in fear of the other cadets catching a glimpse of the app that was still opened.

Straal just smirked mischievously at him and he shrugged, apparently feeling very pleased with himself as he ignored Paul’s anger entirely. “Oh don’t be like that,” he said, as it became clear Paul wasn’t going to stop glaring at him until he gave him some sort of explanation, “I’m just helping you, Paul.”

And Paul couldn’t stop his voice from rising, “You’re not helping me, you’re _meddling_ in my personal life-”

But before he could continue, the lecturer directed his attention at the two friends, irritation seeping into his voice “Excuse me, cadets, can you keep it down or would you like to take over for me here?”

So he gave Straal one last annoyed look, focused back on the presentation on the development of bio technology and its future in Starfleet, and picked up his pen once more. He’d been too invested in this symposium to notice his friend take his PADD from where he’d laid it on the table next to his notebook, scribbling along with the information that may help his current research on mycelium based technology. Starfleet had announced this event months ago, and he’d looked forward to it all this time, but he now found his concentration slipping as a sense of unease settled in his stomach. Luckily it didn’t take long for this lecture to wrap up, which meant coffee break. God, he could use some strong black coffee right about now.

 

As they lined up for coffee, Straal managed to pick up conversation again. Paul was very good at holding grudges and ignoring people. The thing was, though, he was also very bad at passing up opportunities to talk about mycelia and spores and science in general, and Straal was very good at using this information to his advantage. (Which resulted in one of their many scientific discussions on the characteristics of different types of spores and their compatibility with various sorts of electronic equipment.)

It was only after they’d left the symposium a few hours later to grab dinner at a local pizza place that Paul unlocked his PADD. Straal had excused himself to the bathroom, so after a quick glance around to make sure he was nowhere in sight, Paul took it out of his bag where it had sat all day. And damn it, his heart had no business racing in his chest like that. As he typed in his password – making  a mental note of changing it – he chose not to analyse his nerves at something as trivial as opening a dating app. Paul took a breath as a bright pink chat window appeared. Apparently ‘he’ had exchanged messages with one Hugh Culber. He scanned them as fast as he could, reminding himself that Straal could return at any moment; and he really did not want to talk about this.

He nearly groaned as he saw what his friend had sent as an opening line: “ _Hey, handsome_ ”. How cheesy could you be? But Hugh had just sent him a laughing emoji (an _emoji_ , for God’s sake), and had responded within minutes: “ _Hi! Love your profile pic, the uniform suits you_ ” followed by a winking emoji. Yikes. Paul clicked on the picture in question, and a new window with his profile popped up on the app. It was a photo that had been taken two years ago. He was wearing his then brand new standard issue Starfleet cadet uniform, looking at something behind the camera with an almost smile on his lips. His brother had taken it when he had shown his family around the lab one day, and he’d teased him with it. “ _Rare evidence of a wild cadet Stamets smiling_ ” he’d say, and Paul hadn’t ever bothered responding, even though he secretly was glad that he finally had a picture he could send in for his Starfleet résumé. Definitely _not_ for dating services. (Although he had to admit, he _did_ look rather good in it. )

Holding his breath, he scrolled down to the description beneath the picture. And to Straal’s credit, it wasn’t as embarrassing as he had anticipated; it was concise, if slightly condescending. ‘ _Paul Stamets. 24 years old. Aspiring astromycologist at Starfleet Academy. Which basically means that I’m obsessed with mushrooms. So I’m trying to expand my horizons; I would love to learn to talk about other things with other pretty gay scientists like me_.’ Under likes, it simply said: _shrooms_ , and under dislikes: _most humans, but you could be the exception_. Paul snorted and briefly considered throwing his PADD out the window right there and then, but there was that burning curiousity inside him he couldn’t quite ignore. Which meant that he quickly scanned the dining area before giving in to his temptation to read Hugh’s profile. It contained several photos above a few lines of personal information: ‘ _Hi, I’m Hugh (23), a doctor with great taste in music and art and guys. Send me a message if we match, maybe I’ll let you take me to the theatre!_ ’ His likes were _Kasseelian opera and art_ , and there was nothing under dislikes. As for his photo’s, well… Paul may not have been looking for relationships but he had eyes. And maybe, just maybe if this man were to flirt with him and he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t mind making out with him: he was indeed incredibly handsome and he had a sweet smile that reached his eyes. One photo depicted him sunbathing at the beach, arms beneath his head as he gave a wide grin to whoever it was taking the picture. Paul’s eyebrows shot up off their own accord as he stared at his impressive shirtless chest for what was maybe a moment too long. Of course, he could have predicted that this was precisely the moment Straal would choose to sit back down opposite him.

“What are you looking at?”

Paul almost jumped at his sudden return, a blush spreading on his face at the knowing smirk on his friends lips. Avoiding his gaze, he tried to put his PADD back as nonchalantly as he could. “Oh. Nothing. I mean, just. The weather report.”

It was the worst lie he’d ever told, and they both knew it, but Straal knew better than to push him on an empty stomach. After dinner and a few glasses of wine, though, he had to ask the question he’d had on his mind for the entire day. He took a large sip of red wine, and swirled the glass as he gathered the energy to speak. “Why did you do it?”

He told himself the reason he kept his eyes trained on the glass wasn’t that he was afraid of his answer. And yet, in this slightly buzzed state he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. Did Straal pity his lack of connection to other people? Did he want to set him up with someone so he wouldn’t have to spend time with him anymore as his only friend? Did he know about the small crush he’d developed for Straal after they had first become friends?

“I just want you to be happy.” Came his useless answer.

Paul huffed a toneless laugh. “I _am_ happy. I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy. I have my work, and I have you.” He cringed internally at the sound of his voice. His words felt uncomfortable and false, and perhaps that was because they were. He wasn’t happy, he was okay. When he thought about it, he  figured he was happy with his place in the Academy and being given extra opportunities for research there, he was happy to have been appointed Straal as his roommate and he was happy with their subsequent friendship that had developed. He was _okay_ with the rest. Deep down he knew that yes, he, the cool collected mad mushroom prodigy, wanted something more. Maybe, yes, maybe even a connection to someone… special. The fact was, he just didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Paul.” Straal said simply, and Paul met his eyes before taking another sip as he continued, “I know you. I’m your friend and I love spending time with you, but sometimes I see you looking at people when we’re at parties and events. And I feel like you want to meet new people but don’t know how.”

Paul set down his wine, rubbing at his head with one hand. He regretted ever asking such a stupid question. Why exactly had he thought this was a good idea? Talking about himself was something he despised down to his very core, and Straal knew this. Still the man continued, shrugging as he finished talking, “This is me showing you how.”

“I can take care of myself.” He muttered quietly, carefully keeping the appreciation of his friend’s concern out of his voice.

But Straal remained unconvinced. “Besides, I saw you looking at your PADD just now.”

“Yeah, well.” Paul met his eyes raising one eyebrow, unimpressed at that argument, “I’m a human being, I have eyes.”

Straal laughed. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to delete this app and forget this ever happened.”

And that was that.

 

Except it wasn’t. He didn’t delete the app. Not straight away, anyway. That night he couldn’t sleep, thoughts racing; should he try more actively to seek out people he could connect with? And was this app the way to do it? Or should he just keep doing what he had been doing for so long; focusing on his job and passively letting the rest of life catch up with him? After two hours of tossing and turning he decided he had to get out, had to do something lest his thoughts eat him alive.

He grabbed his PADD and sat down at his tiny desk in Straal and his’ tiny dorm. Straal appeared to be fast asleep in the bed opposite his, which meant the coast was clear. So, finally giving in to his curiousity (or was it desperation?), he reopened the damned app. From the small screen, Hugh flashed him a smile with his stupid perfect teeth under a set of stupid attractive chestnut eyes. Paul sighed, clicked the arrow to return to the chat window. He scrolled down to read the rest of the messages; general small talk that didn’t speak to him at all. Until…

“ _So tell me what’s interesting about ‘shrooms’_.”

To which Straal had replied a small scientific manifesto about mycelia. But that was not even the most surprising part; what was really baffling was that Hugh had actually responded with interest. It was clear from his responding messages that he was no astromycologist, but he tried. He really tried. The conversation soon went back to more mundane topics, though. Still, this was rather… refreshing. Something Paul had never thought he could find in a place like this. The last message was Hugh asking him if he was still there after he had rather abruptly been abandoned in the middle of a heated debate on theatre, which Paul did not understand in the slightest since he had never cared for it.

“ _You still there?”_ Read the text.

Clicking the chatbox, he stared at the cursor blinking back at him. He let his fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment, but changed his mind at the last second. No, Paul wasn’t the person this Hugh had met, he could only ever disappoint him. It was probably best to leave him alone instead of leading him on.

“Bye, Hugh” he sighed, before tossing his PADD onto his desk and throwing himself back on his bed.

It wasn’t until he was stuffing his lunch in his mouth the next day – he wanted to get back to his calculations as quickly as possible - during his lunchbreak that he looked at his PADD again, and noticed the new message. “ _I can see that you read this, you know_.”

Shit. Paul forgot about chewing his sandwich momentarily, swiping the notification away in a panic. He wondered if he had to respond now. As he finished eating, he came to a decision; he’d just delete the app. Trying to explain the situation would only prolong both their uncertainty, and on top of that, what was he going to say? “Sorry, I have no interest in dating you. My friend sent made this account and messaged you without my consent.”? Nobody would believe that. No, he concluded, deleting his account entirely would probably be the quickest way to end this entire misunderstanding.

Swallowing his last bite, he deleted his profile and then the app. And if he felt the tiniest pang of loss as he tapped the ‘delete’ button, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he stood up from his table in the canteen and as he walked back through the corridors to his trusted lab, his thoughts mercifully drifted back to spores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear with me for this first chapter, it's only going to get better, I promise! Next chapter, we meet Hugh!
> 
> Find me at @scienceofdeducjohn on tumblr, and please let me know in the comments what you think <3


	2. Chapter 2

The entire ordeal started slipping his mind in the hectic weeks that followed. Paul made great process working on his project when he wasn’t attending only those lectures he deemed essential for his studies, often not leaving the lab until cleaning services had to forcibly shove him out. Not more than once did he reluctantly allow Straal to drag him to a party on campus, where he mostly stood by himself the entire night, motionless and undrinking from the cup of bland beer in his hand, thinking. He’d try to talk to people occasionally, but their interest in spores turned out to be non-existent. Which, he figured, was their loss, except that they more often than not abandoned him within minutes of striking up conversation. Business as usual, then. Straal had seemingly known better than to torture him again about his pathetic disinterest for human connection, or he’d just forgotten. Either way was more than fine for Paul.

Business as usual, except that every once in a while he would fall on his bed after a full day of work and he would just be exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead his treacherous minds wandered into dangerous territory: self-reflection. (If there was anything Paul hated, it was thinking about himself; discovering his own flaws and desires, the very same that he tried to hide from the world so hard that sometimes he succeeded in forgetting about them himself.) Whenever Straal commented on the bags under his eyes or the irritability that was getting worse even for his standards, he’d shrug it off with a non-committal half-truth. “I was up late doing research.” He’d say, and get away with it too, since it was not something out of character for him to do, and besides, it was true. He just didn’t mention the reason why he’d still been up. In other words, everything went back to almost-normal.

Until now. Until this new course with this particular assignment. Paul had never liked the mandatory academic skills classes, but this one, he would decide after the first disastrous meeting, this one was on a whole new level. As he sat down in the back of the room exactly one minute late (the professor squinted her eyes at him, but didn’t say a word – one of the advantages of being known Academy-wide for his scientific promise), he felt a palpable tension in the air among the students of his work group. Directing his attention to the main screen, he discovered the source of it with a stifled groan. _Collaboration_ , it said in large white letters. Great. Just great.

“…interdisciplinary research, which means you will be paired up with a student whose major is completely different from your own. If you turn on your PADD you will find a message detailing your partner.” The professor had to raise her voice to talk over the nervous students who had wasted no time scanning their inboxes for the names of their partners, and had already begun complaining to each other. “You are allowed to choose a topic of your preference, as long as it is-”

But Paul had stopped listening and pulled his PADD out of his bag, tapping the screen for the message to appear with a mild feeling of dread rising in him.

 _Paul Stamets [74389]_ , it read, _You have one (1) new assignment: Professional Collaboration [06] in class Academic Skills [09]. Please note this project is to be handed in in pairs. Your research partner is: Hugh Culber [76372]._

Hugh Culber. Hugh… Where had he heard that name before? Paul swiped away the message, put the device back in his backpack as he scanned the room. Maybe if he saw them…

But wait, there, in the front row- surely it wasn’t-

 _Oh fuck_. Oh shit. Fuck fuck fuck.

Burying his face in his hands, Paul heaved a dramatic sigh. “Figures.” He muttered against his skin, failing to gather the courage and energy to look up.

“And that’s it. Find your partners and report back to me as soon as possible.”

He knew he would have to face up to this particularly low blow dealt to him by the ever relentless fate sometime. Maybe just not for another few seconds. Maybe if he sat here very quietly no one would notice him, let alone recognize him. Maybe if he waited long enough for everyone to-

“Paul?” An uncertain voice accompanied a light tap on his shoulder, and it was all Paul could do to warily raise his head from his hands, looking directly into familiar brown eyes. And damn it if the man was not even handsomer in person. Hugh regarded him for a moment, shifting from foot to foot until Paul remembered he probably should say something.

“That would be me,” He said lamely.

Hugh nodded thoughtfully and went to sit in the chair next to him. Paul was not staring at the tight fit of his crisp white uniform and how it contrasted his skin tone. And he did not feel a blush creep onto his treacherously pale skin. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Hugh was smaller than he’d expected from his pictures, about the same height as himself. And now he was sitting next to him, tilting his head, peering at him curiously. Did he recognize him?

“This… may be a stupid question, but.” Hugh started as that feeling of dread grew inside Paul, “Have we met before?”

Caught off guard by that direct question, Paul scratched his head and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I- I don’t-” He stammered, thanking God that Straal wasn’t here to make fun of him actually _stammering_ as he desperately tried to think of a way to get out of this situation, eyes flitting from Hugh to the door and back. He was seriously considering running out of the room with some sort of fake emergency if that’s what it would take to get out of here. “That is…” He trailed off, damning his stupid brain for choosing this exact time to become utterly useless to him.

Then Hugh’s eyes widened, and his hand flew to his mouth. “Wait a second. You’re not…?”

Paul unconsciously slumped in his seat, holding his face in his hands in an effort to avoid Hugh’s gaze. This had got to be the most awkward situation he’d ever got himself into.

“Yes, you are. _You_ are Paul Stamets, the weird mushroom guy from the dating app!”

And Paul jerked up his head, scowling at him. “Shhh!” Fuck, this was going just great. Hugh crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, smile wiped from his face.

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Paul hissed, injecting as much irritation in his voice as he could, “I’m not comfortable with you shouting at the entire class that I’m on a dating app. I have a reputation, you know.” He looked around the classroom fervently; a few people had started paying attention to their arguing.

But Hugh just huffed a laugh. “Oh right, because you’re a genius. A mushroom genius.”

“Yes!” He turned back to Hugh. “Now can we focus on this assignment, please?”

Hugh looked at him blankly for a moment before stating, “You know, I thought you were a whole different person from your texts.”

Paul felt a whole new wave of annoyance wash over him at his choice to continue this pointless argument. “Well, this is me. I’m terribly sorry if I’m a disappointment. Can we put this whole thing behind us and talk about this shitty project that we’re going to have to do together now?”

“I just want to know how you thought-” Hugh started, but before he could finish, Paul had grabbed his bag and stormed out of the room, leaving a dumbfounded Hugh Culber behind.

 

It took Paul all of one hour to start feeling angry at himself for storming out. He’d been reading the assignment form, and discovered that there was no way for him to move forward with it on his own until they had agreed on a subject. Of course, he could forge Hugh’s signature at the bottom of the form, but that would only result in more friction between them. Which would mean they’d take longer to finish it, which would mean less time for his own mycelium research. So unfortunately, there was only one thing to do. (“Damn it,”) He pulled up Hugh’s personalized timetable on his PADD.

 

The next morning he headed for the medical building before going to the lab with a newfound respect for Starfleet’s medical students (shifts that started at 6am? Paul was pretty sure he would die on the spot if he ever had to get up before 8, let alone be in any state to treat actual patients). After wandering around the halls for ten minutes refusing to ask for directions, he found the department where Hugh was supposed to be working, if the information of his hacked schedule was to be trusted. Sure enough, he spotted the man coming out of a patient’s room only minutes after, and Paul hurried towards him, calling his name. “Hugh!”

Hugh, clearly startled, whipped his head around with eyebrows creasing in confusion as he saw who was approaching him. “Paul? What are you doing here? How did you even know where to find me?”

Paul looked at the wall behind him, shrugging. “I kind of hacked into your course schedule.” Before Hugh could react, he added, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Look, I came here to…” He cleared his throat, then met Hugh’s eyes. “I wanted to apologize. For the other day.”

And something changed behind those eyes; something softened, and it looked like whatever words Hugh had prepared he swallowed. “Apology accepted.” He said instead.

Something in Paul shifted too, then. He wanted to be angry with Hugh; wanted to not let him off the hook so easily. This was not normal for him: when he was angry, he held grudges. If Straal hadn’t unofficially named him the most mycelium obsessed person alive, he would probably be known as the person most likely to hold grudges. Although it didn’t really have as nice a ring to it, granted. However, with Hugh… Something was off, and Paul didn’t much care for that feeling of unease. For now, though, he shook it off.

“Anything else? It’s just that, you know, I have actual people waiting on me to heal them.”

Paul shook himself out of his thoughts and cleared his throat. What had he come here for again? Oh, right. That stupid project.

“We need to discuss the topic of our assignment. I want to hand it in as soon as possible.”

“Oh you want that, do you?”

“No, I mean, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. Do you want me to put my number in your PADD?” When Paul narrowed his eyes but made no move to comply, he rolled his eyes and clarified, “So you can text me about the project, genius.”

“Oh!” Paul’s thoughts had taken him somewhere entirely else after that initial question, somewhere stupid and entirely illogical. “Yes, um, here you go.”

A short wordless moment as he unlocked the device and handed it to him; he withdrew his hands as if stung when their fingers brushed, but if Hugh noticed he didn’t show it. Paul impatiently tapped an erratic rhythm with his foot as he vaguely wondered why his heart was beating an equally erratic staccato in his chest. After an agonizingly slow few seconds, he stuffed the thing back in his bag and turned on his heels.

“I’ll message you,” he remembered to call over his shoulder, already making his way toward the elevators. He managed to catch a glimpse of Hugh standing still and confused where he left him, and as he slammed on the elevator button he could only hope that the blush that had started to darken the tips of his ears had gone unnoticed.

Once safely back in his lab, it took Paul half an hour to settle on the right message to send Hugh. He kept deleting and recomposing until he nearly drove himself mad with his own insecurity and forced himself to settle on “ _Hey when are you free to discuss the assignment for Academic Skills? – Paul Stamets_ ”. He tossed his PADD on the workbench next to the microscope as the doors slid open to announce, judging by his footsteps, Straal. He looked surprised to see him.

“You’re early! I don’t think I’ve ever woken up with your bed already empty.”

Paul shrugged and swivelled in his chair to face him, leaning his back against the edge of the lab bench. “I dropped by the medical building before my lecture, and now I’ve got twenty minutes to spare. Figured I may as well do a few calculations.”

“The medical building?” Straal asked, hanging up his coat. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just that I had to talk to my project partner for this dumb academic skills class.”

“Shouldn’t have failed the course two years in a row, then.” His friend helpfully provided.

All Paul thought of that advice was, “Ugh.” He lost himself in thought shortly after, watching Straal set up various experiments. He’d often feel jealous of him; he was one year ahead of him and graduating this year. Paul wanted to do nothing more than be able to focus on his research full time, maybe even take it to a starship someday. And here he was, stuck with annoying project partners and classes on things he already knew how to do while he struggled to find time for his own interests.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I have no uploading schedule whatsoever :') All chapters except the last one are already fully written though, and only need to be edited. So the uploading pace will depend on how busy I am with uni stuff, but I'll probably post the next chapter over the weekend. I hope you liked this one! If you did, please let me know :)


	3. Chapter 3

They arranged to meet in the coffee shop of the main science building the following morning. Paul had been happily surprised at Hugh’s suggestion, since it was one of his favourite spots to catch up on his readings for class. It felt like a real coffee shop from the twentyfirst century despite being in one of the modern teaching buildings of the Academy: it was filled with comfortable chairs around small wooden tables that were decorated with plants of all kinds and sizes. He’d chosen a table in the far corner of the café, next to the tall glass windows that looked out onto the street, to wait for Hugh. This had quickly become his favourite spot since he’d first discovered the place, because he loved to just sit and watch all different kinds of people walk past while lost in thought.

At exactly 9:59, Hugh sat down in front of him with a cappuccino and a sigh. Paul put down his PADD and took up his own cup of espresso as Hugh said, “I just finished one of the more crazy early morning shifts and I’ve been up for five hours so we better make this quick.”

“Five hours!” Paul paused his sipping. “How are you still alive?”

Hugh raised his eyebrows and held up his coffee, pointing at it with his other hand. “The only reason I can get through this, honestly.”

Paul couldn’t stop a chuckle escaping him at that, recognizing himself in his words. They talked through various aspects of their project and finally settled on a topic – mycelium based medicine – which Paul may have pushed a little bit on Hugh. Luckily he seemed happy enough with it, relieved to have reached a decision so fast.

“Okay, so to reiterate, we’ll both do some light reading the subject matter this weekend. This Monday we’ll discuss it in person and talk through our options.” Hugh said, quick fingers entering the deadline in his schedule on his PADD.

Paul hummed in agreement around his mouthful of coffee. He suddenly realized this brief meeting had gone much better than he’d expected, considering their previous talks. As he wondered if Hugh had really been content with his apology and managed to put all of _that_ behind him, he realized that he hadn’t even managed to do so himself. Because Hugh smiled at something on his PADD and he saw the way his eyes lit up and his hand failed to hide a broadening grin, and to his horror Paul felt something small in his chest constrict in what he could only define as jealousy at not having been the cause of that smile. He glared at the coffee clasped in his hands and wondered idly if Hugh had been talking with other guys on the app, if he’d gone on dates.

“What are you frowning at?” Hugh’s words shook him out of his spiralling thoughts.

He shrugged in response, suddenly not having the energy to reply.

“Still angry with me?”

“No! I don’t. Let’s not-” Paul started, meeting his eyes and hoping he would read sincerity in them, “I’m not.”

Hugh nodded with a polite smile, standing up. “That’s good. Well, I’m off to take a nap. I’ll see you Monday.”

Paul said goodbye and followed Hugh with his eyes as he walked out the building, off in the direction of the dorms. He couldn’t stop his imagination conjuring up images of Hugh coming home to a dorm room just like his, closing the door with a sigh, throwing his bag to the floor. Pulling off his clothes to put on his pyjamas. Or was he the kind of person to take naps in his clothes? Perhaps with no clothes at all? Paul wondered what Hugh would look like beneath his clothes, what he would look like asleep. Paul imagined himself lying next to Hugh, looking at his closed eyes and slack mouth, maybe bringing one hand up to pull the blanket over his shoulders properly. Maybe letting his hand wander; stroking his cheek, brow, eyes, mouth. He took another sip of coffee, closed his eyes and allowed himself this. Just for now. Just for a moment. It wasn’t like it meant anything.

 

Later that night he sat cross-legged on his bed reading the latest study on experimentation with some particularly fascinating mycelium drug, fully in pyjamas and telling himself he’d go to sleep in five minutes every five minutes. If he was honest, though, he knew he was probably going to stay up all night reading everything he could find on this topic because _fuck sleep_ , he thought. _This is way more fun_.

The digital clock of his PADD showed 11:45 pm when a text notification sprung up on the screen. Annoyed, he started to swipe it away until he saw the first few words and who it was from before sighing and opening the text from Straal.

_“SOS this is important, I need you right now!!!”_

Paul made quick work of his reply before clicking back to his fourth article. _“What.”_

It barely took seconds for the answer to pop up, though, and he switched back to the conversation.

_“I’m at this party at Lauren’s and Sam is here!!! I need you to talk to them for me PLEASE”_

His fingers itched to send him a harsh denial and get back to his reading, but a thought occurred to him. _“What’s in it for me?”_ He sent, hoping Straal would give him what he was hinting at.

_“FINE I’ll make sure that you can use the new electron microscope all day tomorrow if you do this for me.”_

Paul smirked, satisfied with the only correct answer, and typed out a quick _“OK, coming now”_. He changed into a pair of jeans and threw on his coat, already excited for a day with the microscope completely for himself. As he shut the door behind him and started the five minute walk to Straal and his’ lab partners apartment, he drew up a mental list of things he was going to use the microscope for.

Straal turned out to be quite drunk, as Paul had anticipated. That didn’t bother him; what did bother him was Hugh standing at the far side of the small living room, which mercifully was packed. “Shit.” Paul cursed under his breath as his friend pulled him to the side, beer in hand. He forced himself to look at Straal, but made sure to hide behind him as much as possible as he explained the glaringly obvious details of the situation – there was a person he liked and Paul had to find out if they were interested, and really, weren’t they a bit old for this shit?

“-and they’re right over, uhh,” Straal looked over his shoulder, eyes widening in anxiety as he tried to find them. “Over there!” He shouted, a little too loudly and a little too drunkenly, and Paul cringed as he followed his finger which of course, pointed to Sam standing barely a meter away from his project partner-slash-person he ditched on a dating app.

“Yes, I’ll talk to them,” Paul said, and continued, trying to stall long enough until they would walk somewhere – anywhere – else, “I will, really. I just thought you liked that guy that worked in IT?”

Straal gave him a vaguely confused look, taking another swig of beer before understanding dawned in his eyes. “Oh, you mean Chris! Nooo, I’m over him.”

“Did he reject you?” He asked, noticing that Sam was walking into another room he assumed to be the kitchen.

“I-” Straal seemed incredibly offended by that question, affirming his suspicion by actually pouting his lips. He must have been quite far gone. “How did you know?”

But Paul brushed past him with only a tiny spark of guilt at having brought that up, seizing his chance to avoid Hugh. “Forget it. Sam! Hey,”

Sam turned around from where they were rummaging through their fridge. “Paul?” They let out a surprised chuckle, “Well, you were the last person I’d expected to see at a party. Take off your coat, grab a drink! Do you want wine?” Sam had started pouring wine in a plastic cup, but Paul shook his head, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible without getting noticed.

“No thanks, Sam. Straal dragged me here, have you-”

And Sam whipped up their head at the mention of his name, which was more than enough confirmation for Paul. “He’s here? I hadn’t even seen him come in! Do you mind if I…”

This was easier than he thought this would go, but Paul couldn’t complain. He shook his head again, following Sam out the kitchen and made eye contact with Straal who was sat on the couch, nervously wringing his hands together and looking up at him questioningly. Paul gave him a thumbs up and was just about to head for the door when he saw it.

Hugh, right where he had been standing before except some guy was blocking his view. Blocking his view and kissing him. Paul didn’t know why he suddenly couldn’t move, do anything but stare as hands that weren’t his cupped Hugh’s face. Until horrifyingly, Hugh opened his eyes and caught his eye, and it was the only thing he could do to pray that his face didn’t give away his feelings as Hugh froze. He gripped the guy’s shoulders and pushed him away slightly, looking back and forth between him and Paul with wide eyes. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds, and yet it felt like he’d stood in that kitchen for hours. But just as Hugh looked like he was going to say something, Paul finally managed to spin on his heels and all but ran out the apartment without so much as a wave to Straal. (Not that he minded; out of the corner of his eyes Paul saw him laughing about some joke with Sam.) He shut the door behind him with perhaps slightly more force than strictly necessary and a heart beating angrily against his ribcage. Falling against the door, he let out a strangled sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he consciously suppressed his feelings. Nothing had happened that meant anything to him, he told himself. Hugh didn’t meant anything to him, he was nothing but a lab partner and a hell of a missed chance. Blinking against the cold, he tried to hold on to that reasoning as he walked home with brisk paces.

That night he didn’t sleep very well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this is a rather short one. I hope you like it anyway! :)
> 
> Also, I watched the latest episode of Discovery last night and today I was still so frustrated with the lack of Hugh content that I finished writing the last chapter! Which means that the rest of the story will follow soon. But first, here's chapter 4!

Paul awoke groggily and to the sound of a door slamming shut. He groaned into his pillow, pulling his blanket over his head with all the strength he could muster in his arms.

A whispered “Sorry”, and Paul gave up on falling asleep again as Straal started shuffling around the room.

He reached out blindly for his PADD, tapping it to see the time: 6am. “Jesus Straal, did you just come home?”

“Maybe.”

Paul sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “I take it Sam was interested, then, huh?”

Straal grinned widely at him, “Let’s just say I didn’t get a full seven hours of sleep.”

“Great, please do give me more details of your sex life.” Paul made a face, done pretending to be interested in his roommate’s romantic entanglements.

But Straal wasn’t done talking on the subject just yet; leave it to him to drag out uncomfortable conversations just to annoy him. “Oh, you’re just jealous.”

Shaking his head, he started getting dressed, planning to leave their dorm as soon as possible. There was some brand new equipment waiting for him in the lab, after all.

 

He spent the next hours absorbed in his mycelium project, peering at spores. It was nice, he was content with his productivity and the work alleviated his anxiety like nothing else. Hours flew by and before he knew it, he was back in bed. His PADD chirped with an incoming text just as he was falling asleep, and he blindly grabbed the device, irritated. When he noticed that it was from Hugh, he bolted upright. The events from the party rushed back to him, clouding his mind with fresh worry. But all that he’d sent, was a link to an article he’d read a few days prior.

_“Did you read this?”_

_“Yes I did, days ago.”_ He responded, falling back against his pillow with a sigh, almost as relieved as he was annoyed.

_“Cranky?”_

Paul arched up an eyebrow, unimpressed at his mild insult, fingers making quick work of a reply. _“Yes. I was nearly asleep when you messaged me.”_

_“……It’s Friday”_

_“What incredible insight. I already feel sorry for your future patients.”_

_“And 10pm…….”_

_“So? I’m tired, didn’t sleep that well last night.”_

_“Oh? ; )”_

Paul took an exasperated breath, considering for a moment to turn off his PADD at that childish comment. _“Nothing like that, Hugh.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Nothing. Just surprised. You’re pretty. And since you got off that app so suddenly… I’d figured you’d found somebody.”_

It took Paul a moment to think of what exactly he could say to that. He frowned. He had no idea what Hugh was getting at, why he was bringing this up again. Especially now that he knew that Hugh was in fact seeing someone else, judging by what he was lucky enough to witness last night. _No, not someone else,_ he corrected himself mentally, _someone_. Just someone. Someone that wasn't him.

_“Good night, Hugh.”_

Hugh’s reply was instant.  _“Paul, come on. I’m just teasing.”_

Paul stared at the message for a second, blinking, before another one appeared.

_“Good night, I’ll see you Monday. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”_

He turned off the PADD and closed his eyes. It took him an hour to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this instead of studying (oops). I hope you enjoy this one!

The next few days passed uneventfully: Paul worked his project, read hundreds of pages worth of articles and fell into bed exhausted only to repeat it the next day. His mother had texted him several times, asking when he was coming over but he’d ignored her, as usual. Sometimes he felt bad for doing that, others he just couldn’t be bothered. Or rather, he was bothered but he didn’t want to be. He closed the notifications as quickly as they appeared, trying in vain to trick his mind into ignoring their existence. _I’ll deal with that later_ , he told himself, _it’s not that important_ , before going back to his studies.

Today was Monday, which meant Hugh and him would have to meet up to discuss their assignment. They’d agreed to meet in one of the booths in the library next to the Engineering building. So Paul begrudgingly stuffed his PADD in his bag and left the lab, saying goodbye to Straal without giving him the time to ask where he was going.

He hurried to the building. Being late never made him uneasy, but right now it did, and Paul had a sneaking suspicion it might have to do with who it was he was meeting. Still, one minute more or less wouldn’t make much of a difference. So he took a moment to rake a hand through his hair and straighten his sweater, brushing it off, as he told himself he wasn’t nervous at all; why would he be?

As expected, Hugh was waiting for him by the time he arrived. Paul opened the door without preamble, making Hugh look up from his PADD. He looked as tired as Paul felt. “You’re late.”

“And hello to you,” Paul grumbled, sitting down and rummaging around in his bag for his own PADD.

“And out of breath. Did you run here?”

Paul jutted out his chin, hoping to God his cheeks wouldn’t dare blush right now. “I was working on my personal project, if you must know. Lost track of time, is all.”

But Hugh just smiled before placing a paper box in front of him. “That’s alright,” he said, opening the mysterious thing, “I brought us muffins!”

In his surprise, it took Paul a moment to respond. “That’s great.”

Hugh’s face fell a bit at his apprehensive words, and Paul felt mild panic at having inadvertently caused that drop in excitement.

“Or… don’t you like muffins?”

“No!” Paul snatched one out of the cardboard box, bringing it to his mouth in a hurry to take a bite. It was chocolate, incidentally his favourite flavour. “Delicious!” He declared around a mouthful, and Hugh’s laugh reached his eyes. His gaze was full of delight and something that came scarily close to _fondness_ and suddenly it was too _much_ and Paul had to look away, feeling a slight blush creep up his neck after all.

“Don’t forget to chew.” Hugh teased, and Paul nodded vaguely, still not looking him in the eyes as he nibbled at the muffin.

“So,” Said Hugh, and if he noticed Paul’s evasive behaviour, he didn’t mention it, “You doing anything fun over the winter break?”

Paul swallowed, setting his muffin down and toying with the paper around it. Personal questions made him nervous; he never knew quite what the question asker wanted to hear from him. “No.”

Judging by Hugh’s rolling eyes, that apparently wasn’t the correct answer, so he added, “I’m going home to spend the holiday with family.”

Still, Hugh gave him a somewhat unsatisfied look as he bit his bottom lip. “So… you don’t have any plans to do hang out with friends, or maybe…” He hesitated a moment too long before finishing his question, and Paul felt his nerves constrict his stomach. “Ah… a significant other.”

And Paul nearly choked on his muffin, coughing as he wondered how he dared ask him about his relationship status when he had been the one desperately clinging to some boy at that party mere days ago. What exactly was he playing at? “No!” He exclaimed maybe a little too loudly, and Hugh didn’t react so much as push his eyebrows as high as he’d ever seen them go. “I mean- I don’t have…” He put up his hands to make air quotes gestures with his fingers, “a _boyfriend”_ Remembering that hadn’t been the question, he ended lamely,  “and besides, I’m not exactly the type to be invited to parties left and right.”

Hugh just sat there unimpressed with his stupid eyebrows still almost past his hairline and shrugged, while Paul mentally congratulated himself on screwing up what could have been a perfectly comfortable study session. “I guess I’d figured…”

Paul sighed, thinking he may not be able to salvage this situation but could at least try to not let Hugh hate him too much, “It’s okay.”

Hugh shut his mouth. “I know.” He said, picking up a muffin himself.

Silence stretched between them for a good minute or so, before Paul thought to initiate conversation again, say something, anything, to make things less awkward. “So… Do you? Have a-” He mentally kicked himself before correcting, “Doing anything this break?”

“Same as you. Doing the obligatory family visit and everything. I’ll do some work, hang out with some friends…” He trailed off, picking at his own chocolate muffin. “No boyfriends, though. Not at the moment.” Brown eyes met his, and Paul realized he’d been staring, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look away. There was something in his eyes, something unspoken that he was meant to pick up on, but he couldn’t figure out how to interpret it.

So he just said, “Really.”

That meant that the boy at the party wasn’t his boyfriend. Just a one time thing perhaps? And why did he feel something flutter around wildly in his chest at this revelation?

If the chuckle was anything to go by, Hugh had apparently picked up on the surprised tone, but thankfully didn’t comment.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! This one's a bit longer, let me know what you think! :)

Winter break had never been anything but a week of nuisance to Paul, if he was perfectly honest. Sure, he knew that it was important to spend time with family, and he did somewhat enjoy reconnecting with them. It was just that this was all more or less overshadowed by a sense of urgency deep inside him, an urgency to keep working on his research, to keep reading and calculating and prodding at mycelia. What he was doing was important, and he couldn’t quite work as efficiently from home as he did at the academy. His brother would nag him to come play board games with his parents, or some aunt he only ever saw once a year would interrogate him about his relationship status – because obviously it was impossible and most unconventional to prioritize your career over “starting a family”. Paul would roll his eyes and play along, sighing through the conversation until he’d excuse himself to get back to his work, that, yes, amazingly was indeed important enough to warrant him not having a partner.

Currently he was trying to explain for the hundredth time what it was he was working on back in San Francisco, in infuriatingly simple terms to an infuriatingly – bless the man - idiotic uncle. After fifteen minutes of answering questions that missed the point by millions of parsecs, though, he decided he’d best change the subject lest he risk developing an aneurysm. Another hour or so and this family dinner would be over, thank God. All he had to do was wait it out and act interested. He’d never been that good of an actor, though.

“You okay, honey?” His mother sat down next to him on the old leather couch that night after the guests had left, patting his knee.

Paul nodded automatically at the question, but his mother gave him a knowing look, and he sighed once again as he looked out the window. The melancholic buried deep inside him often wished for snow during these weeks – if it did, he’d get up early for a walk through the woods. It’d be one of the few situations in which he managed to shut off his ever racing thoughts; he’d listen to the crunching of snow beneath his boots and watch the sun rise slowly above the looming trees to colour the sky soft hues of orange and pink, and he’d not be thinking of mushrooms or annoying people. He’d just _be_.

Right now, there was no snow. Instead, rain fell from dark grey clouds and pattered against the windows in a sad endless staccato.

“How’s Starfleet?”

And he could hear the thinly masked distaste in his mother’s words.

He met her eyes. “It’s good.”

His mother’s lips thinned, and she said nothing for a while, the rain punctuating the moment of silence.

“I still like it there,” Paul continued, mustering up all the energy he had left from the dinner – which wasn’t much, granted – to try and convince her once again. “My research is going well. I’m still on track to graduate this academic year. It’s all good.”

A nod. Then, “You know, once you finish you don’t have to take your… your invention on to space ships. You could…”

“-stay on earth, I know.” He interjected, slumping back against the couch as he revisited mentally all the times they’d had this conversation.

When he looked back at her, he could see the lines in her face hardening, brow pulled together in conviction and eyes fixed on his.

“Mom, space isn’t that dangerous. Starfleet is an organization that knows what it’s doing. It would never bring its most valuable engineers in danger.”

His mother tightened her grip on his knee. “You know what happened to my mother.”

“Of course I know. And I know her loss hurt you so much. But she was security personnel on a ship that patrolled the outer borders of Starfleet space.” Searching her eyes in vain for any sign of admission, he continued, “I’m going to be an asset they can’t afford to lose, mom. I just need you to understand that.”

She didn’t. He knew she didn’t. “Okay.” She said.

Then she shook her head and left the room.

 

_“Straal.”_

Paul was lying in bed, PADD in hand and bored out of his mind, so naturally, he decided to bug his best (and only) friend. Unless… Could he consider Hugh a friend? Not really, right? He didn’t know, pushed the question out of his thoughts as quickly as it had sneaked in.

 _“Paul,”_ A message popped up within seconds. In the safe isolation of his room Paul smiled, pleased at having caught Straal’s attention so quickly.

_“You’re replying fast.”_

A little icon appeared to show that he was typing. Then, a counterpoint. _“You’re replying fast to my reply.”_

Paul quirked up one eyebrow, amused. It was moments like these that he rediscovered how glad he was to have a friend like Straal. To have someone who would talk to him whenever he needed to redirect his own thoughts, and someone who would entertain his ingenious scientific ambitions as well as his mindless pestering. _“Fair point.”_

_“I guess it’s because neither of us have a life outside of shrooms and now that it’s winter break and we’re tragically withheld from our beloved little fungi… well…”_

_“You’re saying we’re such big nerds we can’t function without mycelia?”_ Paul sent the message, reread Straal’s and added, _“Also, stop calling them shrooms.”_

_“That’s what I’m saying, and no.”_

He smirked, taking a second to think of something witty to send, but Straal had already sent him another message before he could hit the keyboard with his thumb.

_“Oh and thanks for asking how it’s going with Sam, much appreciated.”_

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Paul took the bait. He kind of really did not want to be reminded of Straal’s perfect love life right now, thanks. Still, he gritted his teeth and texted, _“How’s it going with Sam?”_

As soon as it delivered, a photo appeared in the chat window: it showed Straal kissing Sam on their cheek. They were grinning in surprise, glancing at Straal out of the corner of their eyes. Something panged deep inside Paul at the sight, and he scrunched up his nose.

 _“Great.”_ He said, realizing with horror that that pang could be attributed to a useless and ugly jealousy. So Straal had been right, that night after the party. He had been jealous.

And he still was. Because what they were rubbing in his face was exactly what he wanted. But not with Straal. With someone else. Someone like…

_“Uh oh, someone’s grumpy.”_

And, fuck, he suddenly really needed some time to himself to process this realization. _“I have to go. See you.”_

“ _Okay, bye fellow shriend (shroom friend)!_ ”

Paul typed out a quick _“I hate you”,_ before dropping the PADD next to him on the bed and pulling the covers all the way over his head, pulling up his legs beside him.

He hated feeling like this.

 

The snow came a few days later, after all, and he was marching down one of the many white covered footpaths in the forest. It was nine am, and his mother and father had been at the breakfast table when he’d come downstairs. They’d insisted on coming with him, telling him they needed to walk their family dog anyway. This unfortunately meant no quiet. Still, their chatter served to distract him from any spiralling thoughts he could have risked in silence. He petted Evita’s head and took the proffered stick before slinging it away, sending her darting across the path.

“…so I said to your father, I said, well take another look at the dates on the tickets, and he did, and sure enough we’d showed up two weeks early!” His mother let out a high pitched laugh, and looked at him expectantly. Paul grinned, having caught only half her words but pleased with her enjoyment of their rare time together as a family.

They continued to crunch through the snow in silence and Paul was grateful for it the short time it lasted. His dad never spoke much, but he could count on his mom to break this spell soon enough.

“Paul,” She said, and she took a breath before continuing, “I know you don’t like me asking this, but we are genuinely interested in you…”

Paul swallowed hard and forced himself to fake a smile and meet her gaze, already suspecting what she was going to ask. “I know.”

“- do you have any kind of, girlfriend, boyfriend, someone?” There was a twinkle in her eyes that revealed she didn’t mind the question as much as he did. Which was, a lot.

Paul suppressed a grimace, his urge to look away, to _run_ away, even. He forced in a slow breath. So this was it, the moment he’d dreaded the entire year, ever since he’d made that stupid new year’s resolution. If only he hadn’t told Straal, maybe he’d not be here right now, failing to find some way to spit out these words that should be so simple, that he’d practiced hundreds of times when he lay awake in bed at night. It was the twenty-third century, for God’s sake.

“No,” he said thickly. His mother raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

“Surely anyone would be lucky to have such a brilliant scientist like you!” She scoffed, “You should try and look around that academy of yours instead of focusing so on your research, I’m sure there’s someone there who-”

And right there and then, an idea sprang to mind. This would be much easier if he could just say he was dating someone. It wouldn’t be so awkward if he could just casually mention, “Actually, I am seeing someone.” The words had rolled off his tongue before he’d properly processed what he had done, and now his mother was positively beaming at him. His dad gave him a shocked look, and Paul quickly averted his eyes, focusing on Evita who’d run ahead of them. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, um. It’s someone I met at the academy, like you said.”

His mother gripped his arm and squeezed it, excited. “That’s wonderful! I knew it. Oh Paul, I’m so happy that you found someone, when your son takes so long you gotta start wondering, you know, but this is so great!”

Paul did in fact not know, but swallowed again, hard. Maybe he could postpone telling them another year. He’d only have to follow through with this lie two more days before he could go back to San Francisco, and with a little luck he would be able to deflect any further questions about this fictional partner of his. He wouldn’t even have to pretend to himself not to know who he was imagining. Just two more days.

 

“You know, Paul told us he has a special someone now,” His mother proudly announced as soon as his father and brother sat down for dinner, and Paul was glad he hadn’t put that spoonful of rice in his mouth yet or he’d probably have choked on it in a spectacular fashion. As it was, he felt his cheeks flush a dark pink as all four eyes turned to him, fully expecting him to volunteer information about this lie he’d fabricated not as carefully as he now realized he should have. His brother was staring at him, mouth agape, clearly about to bombard him with questions. “Well?”

Clearing his throat, Paul fumbled with the napkin next to his plate and willed his mind to provide him with a story. Damn it, why hadn’t he thought this through? “Yeah, I actually met someone and we’ve been, you know,” Suppressing a grimace, he forced through his teeth the next word, “dating.”

But his brother was too shocked and his mother too excited to notice the worst lie he’d ever told, and his father just flashed him an amused smile. If the absurdity of it all hadn’t been bordering on the hilarious, that false sense of pride and excitement he’d given them would have made him sick. Still he pushed himself to continue, “His name’s Hugh and, well, he’s training to be a doctor at Starfleet. He’s a few years younger than me and almost as smart,” He chuckled, surprised at himself for the ease with which he talked about Hugh as his boyfriend. _Fake_ boyfriend, he corrected himself mentally. He smiled down at his plate, “But I… yeah, I really like him.”

When he looked up, his dad gave him a fond smile and brought one hand forward to squeeze his arm. “I’m glad.” Was all he said, and something that had been coiled up tightly inside of Paul finally seemed to unwind. Blinking rapidly a few times, he caught his mother’s eyes next to him.

“We love you no matter what, Paul.”

Paul nodded curtly, blinking again, and dammit, he was twenty five years old. Why was he having trouble with this? But he let himself be pulled in for a hug by his mom nonetheless and gripped her shoulders, letting out a deep sigh. “I know.”

“Enough with the emotional displays already!” Roger kicked him under the table, ever the annoying younger brother. “Tell us more about this cute doctor of yours. How’d you two meet?”

He sat up, secretly pleased at the abrupt end to this rather embarrassing showcase of his feelings, and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to rid himself of these unnecessary nerves. “Um, we actually met on a project we are currently working on. It’s this interesting intersection between mushrooms and medicine, and he’s actually bringing some interesting knowledge to the table.”

“Ah. But. Does he also bring good looks to the table?” Roger said around a mouthful of rice, wiggling his eyebrows. “Come on, show us a picture.”

Paul rolled his eyes in exasperation, but stood up to retrieve his PDAD. When he came back, he pulled up his profile picture from the Starfleet Academy app and was instantly reminded of Hugh’s smile. Something tightened in his chest at the sight of those crinkles at the corners of his eyes and those lips stretched wide in a broad grin.

“Well if it’s got my brother smiling, it must be one hell of a hot dude.” Roger stood up to snag the PADD away from him, and Paul felt the tips of his ears burn at the accusation. Sitting back down, he looked out the window. He couldn’t help wondering what Hugh was doing at this moment. One more day, he thought. And he’d see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final note: I was debating whether or not I wanted to let Paul come out to his family or not, since Star Trek Discovery and this story are set in the future where I could imagine coming out to have become a redundant concept. Still, I really wanted to write a coming out scene since it's something that is for now a reality for many lgbt+ people, and I really wanted to show it in a positive light :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this one. After this, only one more chapter to go!

Paul dragged his suitcase back into his dorm with a restless sensation swirling in the pit of his stomach. Straal would come back from his family tomorrow, which meant he had their shared quarters for himself to unpack, and normally he wouldn’t have minded the quiet. It was just that he desperately needed someone to take his mind off Hugh and those complicated feelings he was finally allowing to drift slowly to the surface.  Or rather, he needed someone to talk him out of letting said feelings run rampant.

While he brewed himself some tea, he opened the minifridge to assess its pitifully tiny content: a few carrots, a single beer and a half empty bottle of ice tea. He shut the door again, rummaging around the cabinet for some food and ultimately plopped down on his bed victoriously with a package of chocolate cookies and his tea. The chocolate flavour reminded him of those muffins Hugh had brought to their study date a week ago, and he wondered idly why he’d taken the effort to bring a snack for his assigned project partner. For an academic skills class, at that. And wasn’t that great, now his thoughts were back on Hugh and that restlessness reclaimed him. He wanted to do something, needed to do something, but he couldn’t quite find out what.

Long after his tea and cookies were gone he still sat there, toying with his PADD, mindlessly clicking through useless websites and articles, musing about the project and his research and Hugh. Just as he was contemplating whether he should put the PADD away and try to get some sleep or if he just didn’t care enough to actually move his ass, a message notification sprung up on his screen. Immediately, his heart jumped into his throat, and he shot upright.

“You back on campus yet? I was thinking we could meet tomorrow to discuss some stuff.”

And if his reply was too quick, he didn’t care. “Sure. 1pm?”

“Perfect. See you tomorrow at 1!” The little waving emoji didn’t bother Paul this time.

 

The next morning, Paul opened their door to a fully packed Straal at their doorstep. Paul endured his hug with a half-hearted groan, awkwardly patting his backpack in the process. “How was your break?”

“Great!” Straal brushed past him, throwing his bag on his bed and flipping on the kettle. “Family though, right? I could use some coffee. You?”

“No thanks, I’m heading out to the lab.”

“This early?” Straal frowned at him in mock affront. “Don’t tell me you’re going to finish this research without me!”

Paul pulled a face in return. “I’m meeting my project partner later to work on our academic skills project later, so I’ll only have a few hours.”

“Did you ever tell me who this mysterious partner of yours is? If it’s someone you- _you_ actually put in an effort to meet with more than a few times, they must be some sort of mad genius.”

He tried not to laugh as he imagined Straals reaction if he told him. For a brief moment, he actually considered it solely to see his shocked face, but decided against it; he’d never hear the end of it if he did. “See you later, Straal.” He just called over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget the end of the year party tonight!” Was all he heard before the door fell shut behind him. Right. As if he was planning on actually going.

 

On his way to the lab, Paul passed the little café he and Hugh had sat down weeks ago that day after he’d gotten himself lost in the medical building. As an idea sprang to mind he stopped in his tracks, thinking. He wondered if they had muffins here.

Two minutes later he stood at the counter with a bag of muffins in his hands, insecurity immediately washing over him. Biting his lip, he started making his way to the lab. Was it too much? Too obvious? He stuffed them in his bag, deciding to postpone the decision of whether or not to show them to Hugh until their meeting by 1pm.

Except that at 1pm, Paul was still very much busy thinking and cataloguing and experimenting. And at 1:15. And at 1:30. Until Hugh opened the door without warning, calling his name, and Paul jumped where he sat studying spores under the microscope.

“Paul? You in here- Hey!”

He whipped his heard around at Hugh, then scrambled for his communicator on his belt to check the time. “Fuck! Shit! Hugh!”

“We were supposed to meet? Half an hour ago?” Hugh sounded only mildly annoyed, which Paul was very grateful for. If the roles had been reversed, he’d probably be pissed.

“I am so sorry. Shit, I… Hugh, I’m sorry. I tend to get absorbed in my work but I’d promised myself I’d be on time.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he suppressed the urge to kick himself.

“It’s okay, I guess we can do it here.” Hugh stepped into the lab. It struck Paul that he could fit right in here, with the pristine white shirt he was wearing, and really, his arms looked great in that, he should wear it more often, or maybe he did wear it often but he didn’t see Hugh that often and he wished he could see him more often, especially in that shirt because, really- “If that’s alright with you?” Hugh finished, one eyebrow raised in hesitation at Paul’s radio silence.

“Yes! Of course, let me just finish up here.” Paul felt his ears turn a bright pink as he turned off the microscope, removing the slide and carefully stashing it away in its place.

“So this is where the mycologist in training works his magic, huh?”

Paul scoffed at him in response. “This is where Straal and I do our research on mycelium, yes.” On a whim, he added, “I can give you a tour if you’d like.” For a moment, he felt silly for trying to share his research with someone who likely couldn’t give a damn about spores, but there was this tiny hope inside of him that maybe Hugh was different. Maybe he cared.

And when Hugh nodded enthusiastically, something burst inside his chest and Paul had to look away for a second, biting the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from turning into a stupidly wide grin. As he showed Hugh around, he couldn’t stop excitement from seeping into his voice, couldn’t stop himself gesturing wildly as he explained the various characteristics of spores, forgot to stop that grin from spreading wider and wider. And he definitely tried but definitely failed to quench those butterflies in his stomach and heart and throat as he watched Hugh’s face light up while he talked and talked and talked.

Until a soft, “Amazing.” From Hugh’s lips interrupted his waterfall of words.

“I know, right! I mean think of what we’d be capable of if we could just find out-”

But Hugh smiled, shooting a nervous glance at his shoes before meeting his eyes again. “No.”

 “No?” Paul let his hands fall back to his sides, confused.

“Not the spores. You.” Hugh’s words were soft and genuine, and made Paul's breath catch in his throat.

“I…”

“You.” He repeated, and touched his arm with his hand, gripping it gently: a question. _Is this alright?_

Unable to speak, Paul blinked, taking an apprehensive step forward. He glanced at Hugh’s hand on his arm and back into warm brown eyes and the next moment those eyes were closer and closer and it dawned on him that Hugh was going to kiss him. And dammit, his lips had been a mere breath away when the door slid open with a _woosh_ and Paul sprung backward into a desk and Hugh turned on his heels, knocking over some empty petri dishes in the process. Face burning, he took a deep breath and mentally shook himself. Had that just happened?

“Paul!” He groaned as he saw Straal strolling into the lab way to casually for someone who’d just ruined one of the best moments of his life. “I hadn’t expected to find you here, I thought you’d said you were going to meet…” And he looked at Hugh, and Paul rubbed his forehead because now the mess was truly complete. “Hugh?!”

Who was currently doing a great job of leaning nonchalantly against a table except for the slight blush on his features, cleared his throat. “Sorry. Have we met?” And really, his voice had no business sounding so normal, Paul thought.

Straal turned to Paul, “You didn’t tell me your project partner was Hugh! Why didn’t you tell me!”

Hugh looked at him too now, confusion written all over his face. God, he could just scream. This situation was exactly what he’d feared would happen sooner or later and he’d caused it himself. If only he’d just kept track of time.

“Okay.” He glared at Straal before addressing Hugh. “I should probably explain. This is going to sound weird but, Hugh, Straal here knows you because he made my profile on that dating app and, well, he kind of was the one you talked to until-”

“Until you deleted it without explaining yourself.” Hugh finished for him, sighing. “That certainly explains your sudden disappearance.” His fallen face stood in stark contract with his blinding smile just minutes ago, and it made Paul ache. He’d ruined it. Instead of watching Hugh, he glared again at Straal for good measure, who’d started towards the door, pointing at it and mouthing _I’m gonna leave now_. Paul just clenched his jaw in poorly veiled anger until the doors closed after him.

“Listen, maybe we should talk about-” Hugh started, and Paul was just done with this entire thing, his drama battery absolutely drained for the day.

“I brought us muffins!” He announced over his words as he dashed toward his bag in a desperate attempt to shift the subject. He didn’t want to hear him say it; he knew that he’d ruined his chance. He didn’t need to hear Hugh rejecting him.

When he emerged, he didn’t dare look at Hugh, instead giving him a chocolate muffin. Fidgeting with his own, he sat down opposite him, willing his mind to come up with something to say. “How did you even find me here?” He asked his muffin before taking a bite. The muffin didn’t respond, and neither did Hugh for a moment that stretched out between them for just too long.

“I… kind of tracked your PADD after I figured you weren’t going to come.”

Paul chuckled nervously, risking a glance at him. Hugh was looking at his muffin with a guilty grimace, but Paul recalled himself hacking into his schedule what felt like years ago. “Seems we’re even, then.” He said quietly, and if Hugh heard him, he didn’t respond.

The rest of the hour crawled by in an overbearingly unsatisfactory manner, and neither of them seemed focused on the task at hand. When Hugh finally left him alone in the lab, he buried his face in his hands letting out a deep shuddering breath. “Fuck.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the last chapter! So sorry for the delay! I might post a short epilogue soon to make up for it :)

“You coming tonight?” Straal was rummaging through his closet, picking out an outfit for the party tonight that Paul was decidedly not going to attend.

“Mmmphg,” He grumbled into his pillow, unmoving and not having the energy to drag himself out of this fit.

“It went that bad with Hugh, huh?”

Paul turned his head just enough so he could speak and pulled the duvet tighter around him. “I kind of implied that I didn’t want to talk about it, after which he got resigned and left right after we finished talking through the project.”

His friend sucked in a breath, making a disapproving noise. “Sounds like you got to own up to it and talk to him.” He held up a hideous yellow button down. “What do you think? I can’t decide between this one or the purple one with the little stars.”

“Do you want to impress Sam?”

Straal didn’t reply, but an adorable faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Then go with neither.” He advised drily, “Wear the black t-shirt. It makes your chest look amazing.”

“Really?” Pulling out the shirt in question, he turned back to Paul. “Why do you sound so angry about that?”

Paul shrugged.

“Never mind. Hey, are you coming tonight or what?”

“Ugh.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! You’ll forget about Hugh for a while, and you could help me if it gets awkward with Sam.” He pouted his lips, adding, “Please.”

Paul supposed it would indeed help him shift his focus, because if was honest with himself, he never did come out of these bouts of self-pity on his own that easily. Plus, there’d be alcohol there. And alcohol plus Paul often equalled a much happier Paul. “Fine.” He drawled. “As long as I can lie in bed for a little longer.”

Straal laughed at him, shaking his head as he pulled on the black shirt and twirled around in it. “You like it?”

“Much better.” He chuckled from his blanket burrito.

 

The party was okay. Paul wasn’t particularly enjoying it, but it appeared to be good enough for Straal. And though he would never admit it, it was nearly adequate for tipsy Paul. He was sat on a bar stool sipping some vague fruit cocktail, thinking, watching people, occasionally talking with Straal when he wasn’t busy chatting up Sam. After a few appletinis though, _Dancing Queen_ came on. Which naturally meant that he chucked the rest of this drink and hopped off the chair. He pushed his way to the dancefloor, humming along to the song and only feeling slightly awkward.

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder. Paul whirled his head and looked directly into Hugh’s eyes. _Oh_. Oh no. Had he seen him dancing? God, he wished not.

“I never thanked you for those muffins.” Hugh said in his ear, warm breath making his skin tingle. Paul gave him a smile, hoped it wasn’t too sappy. Hugh returned it, and they stood there for a while, moving to the song and not doing much else but holding each other’s gaze only to break it and find it again. At one point, Hugh threw up his arms and showed him some of the worst moves he’d ever seen until Paul doubled over laughing, clutching at Hugh’s arm. Hugh pulled him up by his arms, giggling at him and suddenly they were very close again, just as close as they’d been back in the lab and Paul could just lean in and-

Suddenly Hugh leant in, and Paul had already started panicking when Hugh’s lips moved not to his mouth but right next to his ear again, sending shivers down Paul’s spine as he asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

He realized that he needed some space to breathe and think or he’d sooner rather than later mistake Hugh’s intentions again with possibly catastrophic results. “I um. I think I’ll actually go outside for a moment, get some fresh air.” He gestured to the exit. He needed to clear his head.

“I’ll join you.”

Stifling a groan, he started toward the door, twisting his neck to spot Straal halfway across the bar dancing with Sam: he’d best not bother him to let him know he was heading out. If he were honest, he didn’t even want to. Not with those two acting all lovey-dovey in his proximity; not when he would be constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. But there was a hand on his elbow as he led Hugh outside, and lingering for just a short time as the door fell shut behind them. Paul sighed in relief at the deafening silence that enveloped them. He looked up; it was a cold but clear night, the stars as visible as they’d ever been, and he took a moment to marvel at them.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hugh asked.

Paul nodded, shivering slightly as a breeze picked up, and he decided to make the best of the situation. “Well, as long as you’re here, want to go for a walk? I’m freezing.”

“You being moody again?” Hugh chuckled in that terribly adorable way that made his chest ache a little, and Paul pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He scoffed, but Hugh wasn’t impressed, judging by the amused upward tug of his lips.

Hugh kept silent for the better part of the walk, which Paul appreciated as he mindlessly followed him. The moon was particularly bright tonight, and he wondered idly if he’d ever earn a position on a space ship. If he’d fit in enough to warrant such a responsibility. If he got asked later, he wouldn’t be able to say how long they’d been walking when a warm hand appeared suddenly on his chest, pushing hard against him. Paul ran into it with an _ooff_ , abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. He stared down at Hugh’s fingers splayed on his chest before glaring at the man, who – _damn him_ – was laughing at him, “Look in front of you when you’re walking, idiot.”

Paul’s mouth was falling open to retort something clever when he turned his head, and snapped it shut again. Approximately two centimeters in front of his nose stood a lamp post. Registering this unfortunate fact, he stepped out of the way, trying as nonchalantly as he could to brush off Hugh’s hand – it was warm and nice and he missed the contact immediately (it wasn’t like Paul had been wondering how his hands would feel on him) – and ducked his head. “Thanks,” He grumbled, looking up through his lashes to scan their surroundings. They had arrived in one of the small parks on campus, the one Paul visited sometimes to read. Like right now, it usually sat deserted, the single bench near the fountain lit faintly by a lamp overhead. Hugh wandered towards it.

“Let’s sit.”

Paul didn’t move and pouted his lips. “But I’m cold.”

Hugh sighed dramatically and removed his shawl, taking purposeful steps toward him. Paul’s heart jumped to his throat as he got increasingly closer. What was he going to-

“Here.” In one quick motion, Hugh had wrapped the soft fabric around his neck, and Paul relaxed his shoulders ever so slightly. It was still warm from where it had sat all night on Hugh, and it smelled like him. He wanted to close his eyes and burrow his nose in the shawl, but guessed now probably wasn’t the time. Instead he chose to look down at Hugh’s hands, still holding the thing, and opened his mouth to protest when Hugh tugged sharply, drawing him forward. He was smiling mischievously, and Paul forgot to breathe for a bit as he allowed himself to be led to the bench.

Hugh sat down close to him, letting go of the shawl but close enough that their shoulders and thighs were just touching. It felt… not exactly unpleasant. It felt like more than Paul could take, if he was honest. Hugh radiated heat, and comfort, and Paul felt an inexplicable urge to move closer to him.

“So now what?” Paul asked, mostly to divert his own thoughts and prevent his mind from stumbling into dangerous territory.

 “We sit.” Hugh said simply, “We look at the stars.”

Paul fidgeted with the shawl around his neck, threw Hugh a glance: his eyes were focused on the clear dark sky above them. Paul looked up too. He wondered how Hugh’s arched neck could look so attractive and he wondered how the hell far gone he was to think of kissing someone’s neck when he was sitting right next to them. He wondered what Hugh would do if he scooted just a little closer to get just a little warmer, if he rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes, maybe put his hand on Hugh’s thigh. He wondered if Hugh’s hands were as warm as they’d felt fifteen minutes ago and how his fingers would feel interlaced with his own-

“…right there.” The man in question held up one hand and pointed a finger at a general part of the sky above them.

“Hmm?”

“Alpha Centauri, right there.”

Paul squinted at the stars, following his hand, then raised his own and pointed at a star in the general vicinity of Hugh’s finger. “I thought that was some other planet… Beta something?”

Hugh chuckled and gently took his wrist, realigning it with a bright white dot in the vast blackness of the sky. He leaned in close to watch along his finger, nodding at the star. “There.”

But Paul was looking at Hugh, at his soft eyes that were sparkling in the starlight. It occurred to him then that they were the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen. Then Hugh met his eyes, and Paul wanted very much to pause this moment and carry it with him forever. But Hugh sucked in a soft breath and leaned back against the bench with a thud. Paul tore his eyes away too, shifting uncomfortably, the moment gone as quickly as it had arrived.

Hugh was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Today in the lab…”

Adrenaline rushed through him at the thought of what had happened, and before he could think Paul interjected, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He shifted his gaze back to the endless space above them, suppressing a shiver as he wished again that Hugh would scoot a little closer.

A beat of silence.

Then.

“I wanted to kiss you.”

It sounded so sincere, as if it was an obvious truth to both of them, an unshakeable fact. Paul’s head whipped back to catch his eye, but Hugh was looking down at his hands.

Paul kept silent, something constricting his chest, and he didn’t know whether it was shock or another fresh wave of infatuation washing over him. He wanted to tell him that he couldn’t just say something like that in that tone and then shut up. But his tongue acted quicker than his mind as he blurted out, “That’s irrelevant!”

And shit, that was decidedly not what he had wanted to say, but there it was, suspended in the air between them. Hugh looked up slowly, brow furrowed in fitting bewilderment. Paul took a deep breath, figuring there was truly nothing now he could do but push through, “It’s irrelevant because- You- And then Straal stormed in, and then I explained. How I’d been an ass and lead you on and…”

Hugh huffed an incredulous laugh. “I really thought in that moment that you wanted what I wanted. If I’d known…”

And _God_ , how was Hugh not getting this? He threw up his hands in agitation. “No, Hugh! You were right! I did want that. But when I told you about the dating app fiasco, I saw the hurt on your face.”

“That whole thing?” Hugh frowned, “Do you really think that matters? For a genius you can be remarkably stupid, you know.”

“What?” Paul tried and failed very hard to keep the baffled offense out of his voice.

Hugh fixed him with a look and took his hand. It was warm and his fingers enveloped his own easily, and it was all Paul could do not to stare as he sucked in a breath at the sudden contact.

“I wanted to kiss you. Did you want to kiss me?”

 “Yes,” He said, in a breath so soft he wasn’t quite sure Hugh could have heard him.

“I still want to kiss you.”

Paul studied his warm eyes. There was vulnerability in them, he realized, and it was for him. The revelation made him shiver again.

“Do you still want to-”

And Paul’s heart leaped to his throat as he did something he never thought he’d have the courage to do. He tugged at Hugh’s hand until they were mere centimeters apart. Hot breath on his cheek, fingers squeezing his hand.

“ _Yes_ ,” He murmured, allowing his eyes to dart between Hugh’s mouth and his eyes, waiting for a split second to be absolutely sure. But Hugh nodded almost imperceptibly, and Paul leaned forward, pressing his lips softly gently his. Closing his eyes, he felt rather than saw lips under his own forming into a smile. When he pulled back enough to see, he caught Hugh opening his eyes slowly, eyelids fluttering as they parted. The smile was small and simultaneously the softest thing Paul had ever seen, and his heart clenched at the sight.

“You’re beautiful,” It was out before he even knew he was going to say something, and Paul felt his cheeks redden again.

But Hugh just leant back in and kissed him again, just as gently, just as sweetly.

They sat there for an minute, an hour, or more likely somewhere in between and at one point Hugh had probably pulled at him to get closer because suddenly Paul found himself in his lap. He still held Hugh’s hand in one, and had his other around Hugh’s neck. The stars still shone their bright light upon them and the chilly breeze still froze his face off, but here he was, kissing the most attractive man on the whole damn planet, no, strike that, the whole damn _universe_.

“Paul,” Hugh chuckled, leaning back eventually. He was running his left hand along his arm, slowly up and down. Paul looked at him, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. Suddenly, a frightening thought. His face fell.

“Is this. Am I-”

“No!” Hugh squeezed his hand again, “I like this. I like you.” He grinned brightly at him, and Paul wondered how he did that, how his grin could devastate him like that. He glanced down at their intertwined hands, then back at him.

“I like you too.” He whispered.

And Hugh pulled him down at his scarf for another kiss, a little more force this time, a little needier. Whatever it was that he wanted, Paul thought, _let me give it to him. I want to give it to him_. Opening his mouth a bit, he allowed Hugh to deepen the kiss, just a bit. The wind picked up then, and Paul shivered, which was a mistake – Hugh pulled back again with a soft sigh.

“It’s getting colder. We should probably go.”

Paul felt a thumb stroke his cheek and leant into the feeling, nodding slowly in defeat at his suggestion. He was right, after all. Now that Hugh’s lips weren’t distracting him from the cold, he felt it seep into his bones and had to try very hard to suppress his shoulders from shaking. Still, he didn’t move, preferring Hugh’s warmth underneath him for a little while longer until a hand pushed softly back against his chest. With a rueful smile, Paul stood up, almost letting Hugh’s fingers slide out of his own in the process. But Hugh tightened his grip, not allowing their hands to fall apart.

Slowly, they started to stroll back toward his dorm. Hugh insisted on walking him home despite their buildings turning out to be within walking distance from each other.

“Where’s your building?” Paul asked, wondering if he would be able to sleep when he got home. He’d probably lie awake for hours thinking about what had just happened. Maybe for once that wouldn’t be so bad though, he mused.

“Approximately a two minute walk east.”

Paul stopped in his tracks, so Hugh paused in front of him, their intertwined hands still between them. That wasn’t very efficient; they were currently walking north, in the direction of his own building.

“My dorm is farther away. Maybe we should first go to your building…”

Hugh cut him off with a small smile, “I want to walk you home.”

Opening his mouth to protest, Paul reminded himself that this illogical route meant that they would be together for a few moments longer tonight. He promptly shut it again and grinned. “I never thought you would be so romantic.”

Hugh chuckled, tugging at his hand as they resumed their walk. “Oh Paul, you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

“What?” Paul snorted, giving him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Hugh just bumped his shoulder against his and laughed, so Paul shook his head and joined him. Clouds had started to hide the starlight and the breeze had picked up. In the distance, some drunk students were shouting at each other. None of that mattered, thought Paul, as he glanced at Hugh. Not right here, not right now. He squeezed the hand of the man who he’d been kissing mere moments ago, and who was looking at him now with something akin to reverence lighting up his eyes. Who gave him a shy smile, leant in awkwardly, and kissed his cheek. Paul blushed but held his head up high because this time, he didn’t care.


	9. Epilogue

They’d stood at Paul’s door for minutes, talking and laughing and postponing saying goodbye for the night. Hugh had kissed him again, against the door, when Paul had started turning around to go inside. He’d laughed and kissed him back and finally pushed him off of him softly with a smirk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He’d said, and Hugh had grinned at him, eyes twinkling.

Paul had gone inside then, and fell back against the door with a satisfied sigh. A feeling of pure content had settled in his belly, and he still hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off his face. He’d found he didn’t really care, though, because impossible as it seemed, Hugh was right now walking back to his dorm after they’d, well, become a thing.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Paul heard something thud against the door and opened it, only for Hugh to fall backwards into his arms with a shriek. Paul, who’d never considered himself to be strong, naturally stumbled back with the weight of him against his chest. “Oomph!”

When Hugh finally regained his footing, he turned around in his arms, and Paul was very pleased to see a blush start to appear on his face for once. Hugh’s eyes had widened comically in shock, and Paul almost felt sorry for him if it wasn’t one of the funniest situations he’d ever found himself in.

He commented drily, “That was quite the entrance.”

Hugh’s expression shifted into an amused one as he playfully hit him in the chest, and Paul allowed himself to let out a giggle. To his delight, his crush-and-maybe-possibly-hopefully-boyfriend-now joined him. He leant his head on the crook between Paul’s neck and shoulder, shoulders shaking. They stood like that for a while, letting the tension between them dissipate with each breath and each laugh.

 _Yes_ , thought Paul, rubbing Hugh’s back after their giggles had dissolved, _I like this. I could get used to this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading and even more for giving kudos and commenting! It makes me so happy to know that so many people read this! 
> 
> And again, you can find me on tumblr @scienceofdeducjohn :)


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